Part I Chapter 15 Polly: A New-Fashioned Girl by L. T. Meade
PUNISHMENT
There are occasions when people who are accused wrongfully of a fault will take it patiently: there was scarcely ever known to be a time when wrongdoers did so.
The children in the garret were having a wild time of mirth and excitement. There was no time for any one to think, no time for any one to do aught but enjoy. The lateness of the hour, the stealthy gathering, the excellent supper, and, finally, the gay songs, had roused the young spirits to the highest pitch. Polly was the life of everything; Maggie, her devoted satellite, had a face which almost blazed with excitement.
Her small eyes twinkled like stars, her broad mouth never ceased to show a double row of snowy teeth. She revolved round her brothers and sisters, whispering in their ears, violently nudging them, and piling on the agony in the shape of cups of richly creamed and sugared tea, of thick slices of bread-and-butter and jam, and plum cake, topped with bumpers of foaming ginger-beer.
Repletion had reached such a pass in the case of the Ricketts brother and sister that they could scarcely move; the Jones brothers were also becoming slightly heavy-eyed; but the Maybright children fluttered about here and there like gay butterflies, and were on the point of getting up a dance when Aunt Maria and the frightened Helen burst upon the scene.
It required a much less acute glance than Aunt Maria’s to point out Polly as the ringleader. She headed the group of mirth-seekers, every lip resounded with her name, all the other pairs of young eyes turned to her. When the garret door was flung open, and Aunt Maria in no measured tones announced herself, the children flew like frightened chickens to hide under Polly’s wing. The Rickettses and Joneses scrambled to their feet, and ran to find shelter as close as possible to headquarters. Thus, when Polly at last found her voice, and turned round to speak to Aunt Maria, she looked like the flushed and triumphant leader of a little victorious garrison. She was quite carried away by the excitement of the whole thing, and defiance spoke both in her eyes and manner.
“How do you do, Aunt Maria?” she said. “We did not expect you. We were having supper, and have just finished. I would ask you to have some with us, only I am afraid there is not a clean plate left. Is there, Maggie?”
Maggie answered with a high and nervous giggle, “Oh, lor’, Miss Polly! that there ain’t; and there’s nothing but broken victuals either on the table by now. We was all hungry, you know, Miss Polly.”
“So perhaps,” continued Polly, “you would go downstairs again, Aunt Maria. Helen, will you take Aunt Maria to the drawing-room? I will come as soon as I see the supper things put away. Helen, why do you look at me like that? What’s the matter?”
“Oh, Polly!” said Helen, in her most reproachful tones.
She was turning away, but Aunt Maria caught her rather roughly by the shoulder.
“Do all this numerous party belong to the family?” she said. “I see here present thirteen children. I never knew before that my sister had such an enormous family.”
Helen felt in far too great a state of collapse to make any reply; but Polly’s saucy, glib tones were again heard.
“These are our visitors, Aunt Maria. Allow me to introduce them. Master and Miss Ricketts, Masters Tom, Jim, and Peter Jones. This is Maggie, my satellite, and devoted friend, and—and——”
But Aunt Maria’s patience had reached its tether. She was a stout, heavily made woman, and when she walked into the center of Polly’s garrison she quickly dispersed it.
“March!” she said, laying her hand heavily on the girl’s shoulder. “To your room this instant. Come, I shall see you there, and lock you in. You are a very bad, wicked, heartless girl, and I am bitterly ashamed of you. To your room this minute. While your father is away you are under my control, and I insist on being obeyed.”
“Oh, lor’!” gasped Maggie. “Run,” she whispered to her brother and sister. “Make for the door, quick. Oh, ain’t it awful! Oh, poor dear Miss Polly! Why, that dreadful old lady will almost kill her.”
But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency.
“You need not hold me, Aunt Maria,” she said, in a quiet voice, “I can go without that. Good night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I’ll go with you, Aunt Maria.”
“In front, then,” said Aunt Maria. “No loitering behind. Straight to your room.”
Polly walked down the dusty ladder obediently enough; Aunt Maria, scarlet in the face, stumped and waddled after her; Helen, very pale, and feeling half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, and the truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until they reached the wide landing which led in one direction to the girl’s bedroom, in the other to the staircase.
Here Polly turned at bay.
“I’m not going to my room at present,” she said. “If I’ve been naughty, father can punish me when he comes home. You can tell anything you like to father when he comes back on Monday. But I’m not going to obey you. You have no authority over me, and I’m not responsible to you. Father can punish me as much as he likes when you have told him. I’m going downstairs, now; it’s too early for bed. I’ve not an idea of obeying you.”
“We will see to that,” said Aunt Maria. “You are quite the naughtiest child I ever came across. Now then, Miss, if you don’t go patiently, and on your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room in my arms. I am quite strong enough, so you can choose.”
Polly’s eyes flashed.
“If you put it in that way, I don’t want to fuss,” she said. “I’ll go there for the present, but you can’t keep me there, and you needn’t try.”
Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the corner, and poor Helen stood leaning against the oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, and the key of the bedroom in her pocket.
“Now, Helen, what is the matter? Crying? Well, no wonder. Of course, you are ashamed of your sister. I never met such a naughty, impertinent girl. Can it be possible that Helen should have such a child? She must take entirely after her father. Now, Helen, stop crying, tears are most irritating to me, and do no good to any one. I am glad I arrived at this emergency. Matters have indeed come to a pretty crisis. In your father’s absence, I distinctly declare that I take the rule of my poor sister’s orphans, and I shall myself mete out the punishment for the glaring act of rebellion that I have just witnessed. Polly remains in her room, and has a bread and water diet until Monday. The other children have bread and water for breakfast in the morning, and go to bed two hours before their usual time to-morrow. The kitchenmaid I shall dismiss in the morning, giving her a month’s wages in lieu of notice. Now, Helen, come downstairs. Oh, there is just one thing more. You must find some other room to sleep in to-night. I forbid you to go near your sister. In fact, I shall not give you the key. You may share my bed, if you like.”
“I cannot do that, Aunt Maria,” said Helen. “I respect you, and will obey you as far as I can until father returns, and tells us what we really ought to do. But I cannot stay away from Polly to-night for any one. I know she has been very naughty. I am as shocked as you can be with all that has happened, but I know too, Aunt Maria, that harsh treatment will ruin Polly; she won’t stand it, she never would, and mother never tried it with her. She is different from the rest of us, Aunt Maria; she is wilder, and fiercer, and freer; but mother often said, oh, often and often, that no one might be nobler than Polly, if only she was guided right. I know she is troublesome, I know she was impertinent to you, and I know well she did very wrong, but she is only fourteen, and she has high spirits. You can’t bend, nor drive Polly, Aunt Maria, but gentleness and love can always lead her. I must sleep in my own bed to-night, Aunt Maria. Oh, don’t refuse me—please give me up the key.”
“You are a queer girl,” said Aunt Maria. “But I believe you are the best of them, and you certainly remind me of your mother when you speak in that earnest fashion. Here, take the key, then, but be sure you lock the door when you go in, and when you come out again in the morning. I trust to you that that little wild, impertinent sister of yours doesn’t escape—now, remember.”
“While I am there she will not,” answered Helen. “Thank you, auntie. You look very tired yourself, won’t you go to bed now?”
“I will, child. I’m fairly beat out. Such a scene is enough to disturb the strongest nerves. Only what about the other children? Are they still carousing in that wicked way in the garret?”
“No. I am sure they have gone to bed, thoroughly ashamed of themselves. But I will go and see to them.”
“One thing more, child. Before I go to bed I should like to fill in a telegraph form to Miss Grinsted. If she gets it the first thing in the morning she can reach here to-morrow night. Well, Helen, again objecting; you evidently mean to cross me in everything; now what is the matter? Why has your face such a piteous look upon it?”
“Only this, Aunt Maria. Until father returns I am quite willing to obey you, and I will do my best to make the others good and obedient. But I do think he would be vexed at your getting Miss Grinsted until you have spoken to him. Won’t you wait until Monday before you telegraph for her?”
“I’ll sleep on it, anyhow,” replied Mrs. Cameron. “Good night, child. You remind me very much of your mother—not in appearance, but in the curious way you come round a person, and insist upon having everything done exactly as you like. Now, my dear, good night. I consider you all the most demoralized household, but I won’t be here long before matters are on a very different footing.”
The bedroom door really closed upon Aunt Maria, and Helen drew a long breath.
Oh, for Monday to arrive! Oh, for any light to guide the perplexed child in this crisis! But she had no time to think now. She flew to the garret, to find only the wreck of the feast and one or two candles flickering in their sockets. She put the candles out, and went next to the children’s bedrooms. Bob and Bunny, with flushed faces, were lying once more in their cribs, fast asleep. They were dreaming and tossing about, and Nurse stood over them with a perplexed and grave face.
“This means nightmare, and physic in the morning,” said the worthy woman. “Now, don’t you fret and worry your dear head, Miss Helen, pet. Oh, yes, I know all about it, and it was a naughty thing to do, only children will be children. Your aunt needn’t expect that her old crabbed head and ways will fit on young shoulders. You might go to Miss Firefly, though, for a minute, Miss Helen, for she’s crying fit to break her heart.”
Helen went off at once. Firefly was a very excitable and delicate child. She found the little creature with her head buried under the clothes, her whole form shaken with sobs.
“Lucy, darling,” said Helen.
The seldom-used name aroused the weeping child; she raised her head, and flung two thin arms so tightly round Helen’s neck that she felt half strangled.
“Oh, it’s so awful, Nell; what will she do to poor Polly! Oh, poor Polly! Will she half kill her, Nell?”
“No, Fly—how silly of you to take such an idea into your head. Fly, dear, stop crying at once—you know you have all been naughty, and Polly has hurt Aunt Maria, and hurt me, too. You none of you knew Aunt Maria was coming, but I did not think you would play such a trick on me, and when father was away, too.”
“It wasn’t Polly’s fault,” said Firefly, eagerly. “She was tempted, and we were the tempters. We all came round her, and we did coax, so hard, and Polly gave way, ’cause she wanted to make us happy. She’s a darling, the dearest darling in all the world, and if Aunt Maria hurts her and she dies, I—I——”
The little face worked in a paroxysm of grief and agony.
“Don’t, Fly,” said Helen. “You are much too tired and excited for me to talk calmly to you to-night. You have been naughty, darling, and so has Polly, and real naughtiness is always punished, always, somehow or another. But you need not be afraid that any real harm will happen to Polly. I am going to her in a moment or two, so you need not be in the least anxious. Now fold your hands, Fly, and say ‘Our Father.’ Say it slowly after me.”
Firefly’s sobs had become much less. She now lay quiet, her little chest still heaving, but with her eyes open, and fixed with a pathetic longing on Helen’s face.
“You’re nearly as good as mother,” she said. “And I love you. But Polly always, always must come first. Nell, I’ll say ‘Our Father,’ only not the part about forgiving, for I can’t forgive Aunt Maria.”
“My dear child, you are talking in a very silly way. Aunt Maria has done nothing but her duty, nothing to make you really angry with her. Now, Fly, it is late, and Polly wants me. Say those dear words, for mother’s sake.”
There was no child at Sleepy Hollow who would not have done anything for mother’s sake, so the prayer was whispered with some fresh gasps of pain and contrition, and before Helen left the room, little Lucy’s pretty dark eyes were closed, and her small, sallow, excitable face was tranquil.